This isn't really a thread I expect a lot of, if any, replies to. I just needed to write, because it always makes me feel better. And let's face it, every few months I get really down. Since I don't have anyone else to talk to, it's pretty much just me talking to myself. Well, to a character I've named Atrus. He's the small part of me that feels alone and defenseless in this world. And while it always starts depressing, it always helps in the end to have someone to talk to. You don't have to reply, you don't have to cheer me up, you don't ever -have- to do anything. I just ask that you not judge. I love you all.
I look around me every day, and it starts to weigh my spirits down. As always, I come here. To memos. My thoughts. My deepest self. Looking outward more often than any of us likes to admit causes you to look inward. I don't really know where to start; do I ever? The state of things is just too much sometimes. No one cares for each other, nobody knows you exist, no one would think twice if they did notice. It's rare when I see someone who's in pain, and someone sits down with them and asks them a very simple question. How are you?
Because that's all it takes. Is one person sitting down and saying they care enough to take time out of their day for you. Have you done that, recently? And I mean more than in a pleasantry. More than just banal greeting, like you're asking them what color the sky is or where they got that shirt. But so few people do it. The smallest things make the biggest difference.
I don't mean a butterfly beating its wings, or a pebble thrown in a river. I mean it can be a powerful thing to do. My mother is in the hospital very often. I remember, most vividly, stopping one time when I passed a room. A little old lady was in her bed, appeared to be crying. So I pulled up a chair in her room, smiled at her, and told her I know she didn't know me, but I wanted to stop and see how you're doing. She told me her remaining family hadn't even come to visit, and we talked for a good hour. Amazing woman. Ever since, I make it a point to do just that with at least one person a day. I think the world could use a little more kind, tiny gestures.
I wonder, too: what's the point? Why bother staying alive? Some primal urge that forces us to fight for survival? That seems a little ridiculous to me. That might work for some people, but as someone that is self aware I think there should be something deeper than that. I'm not entirely sure what. I suppose we all have different reasons, but it all seems so artificial and meaningless.
That's not to say I'm going to go and off myself. Worry not. I just have these thoughts - it's why I'm here, writing now. Still, the conclusion I personally have drawn is this (follow along with me, if you will). Is it to have children, so they can forget you two, maybe three generations later? To leave a lasting impression on one person, who will inevitably forget you not even a day later? Is it to try and make the world a better place, to name an animal after us, to be launched into space and go down in the history books? You see the common theme.
I think we struggle to be remembered. And once that is accomplished, then we are content. What is content? The feeling that you will be remembered, and so your life meant something, and you no longer fear death. It's the reason I started to write - it makes me content.
Before I consider myself done musing for these brief moments spent alone, let me reassure you all of one thing. I don't know if it helps; I know it helps me to hear it from time to time. Maybe not for you. But as long as there is breath in my body, my friends, I will remember. I will remember all of you. Life is too short to hold grudges - my enemies, my friends, my family. Nothing you have done is worth losing you to nothingness. Hold your candle high. With enough light, the way is clear, and we all can walk it together.
I forgive. And I will remember.
~ Atrus
